Beginning
by Corinth
Summary: Oneshot. My take on how John and Casey first got together. Please R and R!


I own nothing.

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John Munch stared into his drink, his slightly gnarled hands resting on either side of the small glass. The bar was absolutely packed on that Friday night, too loud to hear anything of consequence. There was hardly a place left to stand in the chaos, and yet there was still a ring of space left around the somber detective. It was as if no one dared to get too close for fear that his melancholy would be contagious.

He sighed, but the sound was lost in the din all around him. It had been another tough case. That was not surprising; it was an excuse that all of the detectives could give any day of the week, but some were harder than others.

All the detectives had certain cases that got to them more than others. It was often hard to pinpoint exactly what set John off…it was not quite as obvious as with some of the others. Even John could never explain to himself the connection between the victims that haunted his dreams for weeks on end, but he knew immediately the cases that would break his heart.

The case that drove him to the bar that night was actually not that bad; not on the surface, anyway. A young woman had been raped…that was, unfortunately, standard. The part that was eating away at John's soul, however, was the conversation he had had with a friend of the victim. The man admitted to John that he was in love with her, but she was too scared to even let him near her anymore. He never told her the truth and then, suddenly, it was too late. He would never have the chance because he could not bear to force his company on her. It was over before it began, and they were both left completely alone.

Closing his eyes against the burning sensation in his throat, John threw back the rest of his drink and signaled to the bartender for another one. The young man eyed him warily, no doubt wondering what could possibly drive such an old man to get drunk in a bar overflowing with plastered college students, but he did not say a word.

John took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, sighing again, but his eyes shot open when he felt a hand on his shoulder and was aware of the stool next to him being pulled out. He looked over angrily to see who had been stupid enough to infringe on his depression, ready to tell Fin or Elliot or Cragen to leave him the hell alone, but his harsh words got stuck in his throat. The ache in his heart lessened to a certain degree, but it also worsened because it was her…the woman whose every action and word filled his head, finally driving him to the bar because he could not admit the truth to her.

Casey Novak sat down next to him, her eyes sparkling but not hiding her obvious concern. "How did you get in here? They were carding at the door."

John outwardly ignored her joke, but his conflicting feelings of happiness and pain both grew. It was a strange sensation. "What'll you have?"

She shook her head. "Nothing, thanks. I've got to be able to drive you home."

He turned to her, finally allowing himself to smile. "Do you even know how to drive?"

She snapped her fingers. "Damn. I knew I forgot something."

John turned back to his drink, cursing his lack of nerve. He was such a coward. He went to the bar to sink down into the abyss of loneliness, and then the object of his unspoken affections showed up…and he still was not about to tell her anything.

Without realizing it, John clenched his fists so tightly around his glass that it was at the point of shattering. He only loosened his grip when he heard Casey's say, worry evident in her tone, "John?"

He took a deep breath, letting go of the glass and taking hold of his hair instead. "I'm great," he said sarcastically, staring down at the counter where he idly started counting the profanities carved into the wood. He reached twenty-two before he felt Casey's hand on his arm and heard her say, "Let's get out of here."

He shook his head. "I'm having fun."

Casey would not accept that, of course. She practically pulled him to his feet, forcing him to look at her. "You can't hear a thing in here. Let's walk."

John decided against arguing. She was not a lawyer for nothing. He would never beat her, and they were both aware of it. It would be easier if he just gave in, so he did. Plus, all he really wanted was to be with her. It did not much matter to him where.

He followed her through the crowd, only partially aware of the three or four college guys who asked her to stick around. The icy blast of wind that hit him immediately upon exiting the bar served to clear his head and he blinked several times before he realized it was snowing. "You want to _walk_?"

She looked at him as though he was crazy. "A little snow never hurt anyone."

"Tell that to Ritchie Valens."

"That was a lot more than a little snow. Don't exaggerate."

Much to John's surprise, Casey hooked her arm through his and they headed in the direction of his apartment. He chanced a sideways glance at her, and smiled to see her gazing up happily at the falling snow, completely unconcerned that it was landing in her hair. It was one of the many things he loved about her. "How do you know where I live?" he asked seconds later. "And how did you know where I was?"

"The government. Someone called me…George something…oh yeah, George Bush."

He shook his head, smiling again in spite of his mood. She had that power over him. At least someone could make him happy. He sure as hell could not do it himself.

John wondered at the way she was acting. He wanted to know, more than anything, if she was just being friendly. He did not dare to hope it was anything more, but he wished for it to be.

After a few more minutes of walking in a surprisingly comfortable silence, John stopped and faced her. They were under a streetlight and the orange glow it cast on the A.D.A. as she stood in the midst of swirling snowflakes made her look more mesmerizing than usual. He did not want to lose her company, but on the other hand, he had to know what was going on. "Casey."

"John."

"What are you doing here?" She opened her mouth to reply, but John, recognizing that she was about to use humor to deflect that question, being quite adept at it himself, interrupted. "Be serious."

She rolled her eyes, but he did not smile. She seemed to recognize that she had no choice but to answer truthfully since he would not let her go until she did, so she conceded. "I was worried about you," she admitted, her voice soft.

"Why?"

"Because I could tell the case upset you."

John shrugged, preparing to lie to the woman he loved. "No more than any others."

"John. Don't lie to me."

He stared at her for a few seconds, engaging her in a contest of wills. She did not break eye contact until he did. He was glad she knew he was lying, that she could read his emotions. No one else had ever been able to. "Fine," he said, looking at her again. "It was a bad one."

She nodded. "I know." She raised her eyes to the sky for a few minutes, watching the dizzying march of the snow. "It was hard for me too," she finally said.

"Why?" John asked for the second time.

She ignored his question, but she did meet his gaze again. "John…one time Olivia told me that you've given up on love."

John stared at her. He never imagined that he would hear those words come out of her mouth, and he had no idea how to respond. It was not even a question, so he could not be sure if he was even supposed to answer. He just kept looking at her, silent.

She seemed to want him to say something, because she prompted, "Is that true?"

John gritted his teeth, knowing what he had to say. If he passed up this opportunity, this blatant call for his honesty, he would never forgive himself. "I had," he said softly. "But now I'm not sure. I love someone, but I don't know if it would work out."

"Why?" she asked.

He took a step closer to her, urging himself to go for it completely. "I'm not sure what she thinks about me. I don't know if she loves me too."

Casey mimicked his movements and likewise came closer to him. "I'm sure she does," she said, pausing for a second but then taking his hand in hers.

John could not hold back his smile any longer. He looked at her over his glasses. "You realize what you're getting yourself into?"

She stared at him. "Is that really what you should say after someone pretty much tells you they love you?"

"Pretty much?" His heart was pounding, and he could hardly keep himself from pulling her to him and kissing her.

She glared at him, but her eyes still had their sparkle. John decided he could look into them for the rest of his life, and he hoped he would get the opportunity. He barely noticed the cars driving by on the road to his right. He barely noticed the snow. All he saw was Casey, and all he heard was her voice. "Fine. I'll say it. I love you, John."

He stopped trying to hold himself back. He practically launched himself forward and tangled his fingers in her long hair, something he had wanted to do for a long time. He pressed his lips to hers, feeling her arms snake around his back. When they finally broke apart, Casey raised her eyebrow at him. "So you concur?"

He chuckled at her wording and pulled her back to him as an answer.

For the first time in years, perhaps for the first time ever, he felt no pain.


End file.
